


Bend

by NadiaHart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Autofellatio, Autosodomy, Come play, Dirty Talk, Flexibility, Flexible Stiles Stilinski, Other, Stiles Stilinski Has a Big Dick, Virgin Stiles Stilinski, hung stiles stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 15:52:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17852579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadiaHart/pseuds/NadiaHart
Summary: Erica says it like it's nothing, like it's a topic of conversation they've hashed out countless times before. Except they haven't. No one has ever talked about his dick, not like this, not like anything. Certainly not in the middle of a pack meeting like it's only slightly more interesting than the weather.“I bet Stiles could suck his own dick.”And there it was, out in the open, launched into the universe, an idea his mind seized onto and would not let go.Could he suck his own dick?





	Bend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [comedicdrama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/comedicdrama/gifts).



> _blasphemy_
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> my friend CD sent me a link and this fic was born. You can thank him >.>

Standing completely nude at the side of his bed Stiles' frown deepens. His stomach is tangled up in nervous knots, or angry butterflies, or squirming snakes… he puffs a breath, shaking out his hands before settling them back on his hips and staring down at his half hard cock. Everything is perfect, well, as perfect as he could make it. So he honestly has no idea what’s keeping him from crawling up onto his bed and just… doing it, well, doing himself.

Stiles examines his set up, given a chance to make this first-time perfect, he’s taking it. _Maximum comfort._ Four brand new pillows are piled on top of his old one on his bed, fluffed up and looking cozy. The blankets are spread out neat and inviting, so different from the usual mound of tangled fabric he flops into each night. He’s even washed them. He’s treating himself.

Stiles also purchased a brand new, super soft, extra large beach towel; which he’s laid out over the center of his bed. It’s huge; he could easily wrap around himself twice and still have extra.

 _Family size_ , the tag said.

Why anyone would want to wrap their entire family up in one towel, Stiles can’t fathom. Maybe for a photo? Beach day, a family photo of awkwardness? Scrubbing his hands through his hair, he huffs.

“Get it together,” Stiles scolds himself, and yet, he still doesn’t move. Remains stock still, hands on his hips, staring down at his neatly constructed nest of a bed. “We’re doing this,” he says to his dick, and yet his legs don’t move.

“It’s not a big deal,” Stiles argues with no one, “I’m just… going to fuck myself... on my own dick.” The dick in question, his dick, jerks and thickens at the thought. “At least part of me is on board for this,”

Sighing he turns away from his bed and paces back and forth a few times. “It’s not the same thing. It wouldn’t really be taking my own virginity, would it? I mean, yes, there would be a dick, in my ass, but it would be my own so… it doesn’t really count. Does it?”

Stiles spins around and poses the question to his empty, inviting, bed. “Ugh, like you’d _actually_ be any help. You useless comfortable thing, you want me in you all the time, sexy or not.”

The bed, characteristically, says nothing.

“I could do a blowjob?” Stiles asks his dick, hands on his hips again, “Blowjobs are good? We could be happy with a blowjob, right?”

His dick, of course, also says nothing. It doesn't even twitch, which really is really telling if he honestly thinks about it.

“It's rude of you guys to put this decision all on me,” Stiles points out, stalking back to his bed and finally flopping down into it. The plug he stuffed up his butt earlier in the night presses roughly into his prostate, and he jolts with painful pleasure. “Right, right, forgot that was in there…”

He’s done research, scoured subreddits, read how-to-guides, gotten off to more videos of people with smaller dicks than his doing it, so he really he doesn’t understand what’s stopping him right now. He knows it's possible; he knows he’s got more than enough dick to accomplish it, and yet, here he is, stalling.

Slowly, Stiles rolls his hips, the plug shifting deliciously inside of him. “Fuck it,” he growls, scooting up his bed until his head and shoulders are nestled among the pillows. Reaching down he grips the small flared base and presses the plug deep before pulling it out again. Pleasure ripples up his spine and Stiles can’t help but relax back into the softness he’s surrounded himself with.

It’s not the first time he’s explored this part of his body. He’s been playing around with his prostate for a long time, he just never thought about putting his own dick in his ass before. Hell, he’s never focused long enough to do more than wonder if he could give himself a blowjob. No, that little idea was shoved unceremoniously into his brain by Erica.

It all started a few months back, totally by accident. Stiles always knew he was flexible, that his long limbs were maybe just a bit more elastic than most. That his muscles and joints were just a bit springier than the rest of his fellow-non-wolfie-nineteen-year-olds; but he never actually put any thought into it. Aside from being thankful that all the times he’s flailed his way through something, nothing ever broke, or snapped, or tore. He never thought about all the _other_ possibilities, that is until Derek unceremoniously flips him off the couch during a pack meeting at the loft.

“Move, Stiles. This couch sits three, not one.”

Normally, it wouldn’t have been a _thing_. Derek’s always flipping, shoving, or pushing him and the others around, but this time Erica just had to chime in.

You see, with Stiles’ amazing cat-like reflexes, he managed to go ass over teakettle off the couch somehow and landed on his shoulders with his feet flipped over his head in some kind of crazy yoga pose. His butt and all of his lower back on display for the world to see, and before get his legs back below his head–where they belong, Erica’s cackling and announcing to the entire room that, “I bet Stiles could suck his own dick.”

“Yeah right,” Jackson chimed in, without missing a beat, and not to be helpful–but totally helping–shoved Stiles with his foot, so he flopped over on the floor, “Like the twerp's dick is big enough for that.”

“You never know,” Erica said her eyes thoughtfully sliding down Stiles’ body where he was splayed out on the floor, limbs now back in their appropriate hemispheres. 

“Could we please not talk about my dick,” Stiles said untwisting himself and sitting up.

“Told you,” Jackson sneered, as if Stiles not wanting the entire room to focus on his man meat was proof that he’s more of a cocktail sausage than a foot long hot dog.

“You know, I always wondered how you managed to survive this long without killing yourself. You find a way to trip over more flat surfaces than anyone I’ve ever met. I suppose it’s only fair that being flexible comes along with being an utter spaz.”

“Wow, Lydia, you cut me so deep,” Stiles said, putting his hand over his heart.

"Enough," Derek snapped bringing the meeting back around to the topic at hand. Moving movie night from Friday to Saturday, Stiles was for it, cause he usually didn't have plans, but a lot of the pack was against giving up their weekends.

Not that Stiles was paying attention anymore because there it was, out in the open, and his mind seized onto it and would _not_ let go.

Could he suck his own dick?

He was fairly well endowed–if he said so himself. He’d seen enough porn to compare, and Stiles is comfortable putting himself on the larger end of the dick size spectrum.

So, could he do it?

Yes, indisputably, he could.

Not right away of course, but damn did he come close on his first try. The headache and stiff neck he got from almost blacking out due to lack of oxygen did make him reconsider the extent of his natural flexibility, though. Maybe a little warm up, some research, and a bit of training were in order. 

It took a few days of YouTubing _Yoga for Beginners_ before his back and neck were relaxed enough to hold the extended bend, but once he could do it, let's just say... it was a _long_ first night; and next day. Then, after accidentally going two full days without answering his phone, Scott had shown up and rather abruptly left, complaining that Stiles needed to do something; air out his room, burn his sheets, _shower_. Also, like the total bro he is, promising to never, ever speak of this again.

Now, lying on his bed, legs tucked up against his chest, Stiles takes a deep calming breath. It's the slow, rhythmic breathing he does before he’s about to go into a full backbend, and carefully tugs the plug from his ass.

“This is totally just a different form of masturbation,” Stiles says, slightly breathless, taking his mostly hard cock in hand. It’s thick and warm, curling heavily over his fist and pulsing softly between his fingers as it slowly hardens.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you,” he tells it stroking over the soft, supple skin. “I mean, how many people get a chance to do something like this? Take their _‘me time’_ to the next level? Who's going to know what I want more than me, right? It's fine, this is great. Totally not a pathetic attempt at devirginizing myself.”

It’s not like he’s expecting an answer, so when the room stays quiet and still Stiles releases a breath. The only sounds left to comfort him is the slow creaking of the big oak outside his window and the rushing of his blood through his ears.

“I’m just, proving a point. Testing a theory.” Stiles goes on, fingers squeezing the head of his dick before stroking down the shaft, “Fuck it, I want this.”

Conversation over, Stiles closes his eyes, blindly reaching for the open bottle of lube on his nightstand and pours a bit over his taint. He shivers as it drips down his crease. Running his fingers through it, Stiles gathers the slick backup over his balls to coat his shaft.

“Don’t be fully hard,” He mumbles the directions he memorized over the last few days. Craning his neck to look down at his cock; still soft, but thick and full, the skin over the shaft moveable, flexible. “Try to stay relaxed, and be sure to stretch your opening fully.”

With his lubed up fingers, Stiles prods at his entrance, the muscle relaxed and forgiving. “Going well so far, what else? Oh, um, right,” Shyly he reaches down and moves his balls off to one side, pushing his dick down between his legs, his fingers curling over his pelvic bone to guide the tip towards his entrance.

It’s a strange feeling, he decides, when the tip brushes against the soft opening. Disorientating. He’s not sure which sensation to focus on, his dick or his hole. 

Carefully adjusting his hips and relaxing his back and pelvis, Stiles drapes his knees back until they are pressing up by his ears and pushes down on his dick. The moment the crown pops passed his opening his entire body contracts, abs flexing, ass clenching. Unsure of what to do Stiles freezes, completely awash with sensation.

Nothing will ever compare to this, nothing he’s done to himself so far will ever be better than this right here. His dick's encased in soft, slick, fire warm flesh and his ass is spread around a hard equally as satisfying cock. His eyes roll back for the briefest moment, his ass reflexively clenches.

“Oh! My god, fuck, fuck,”  

The urge to thrust is hard to ignore, but one wrong roll of his hips and this all goes away. The videos say to stimulate thrusting by pushing his dick into his hole with his fingers, so that's exactly what he does. He has the shaft to spare, and there’s definitely more dick left for his hole, so he pushes, curving his hips up ever so slightly while his fingers guide his cock down and in.

It’s pure magic. His cock tries in vain to get harder because this is without a doubt, the most arousing thing that’s ever happened to Stiles in his life. The way it’s curled down past his balls, and between his legs though, it's almost impossible for him to get fully hard. He thrusts again, pushing his dick deeper into his ass with one hand while the other gently tugs his balls up and out of the way.

He can’t tell if his body is working against him, or for him because with each wave of pleasure that dances over his skin, his ass tightens, fluttering around his dick. Liquid pleasure slides down his bowed spine; trembles through his legs and has his toes curling in the air above his head. 

His breath comes in short over-sensed gasps, and he can’t close his mouth, can’t stop licking his lips. His eyes roll back on a particularly forceful push, and Stiles realizes with a start, that he’s going to come. That he’s a heartbeat away from filling his ass with white hot spunk and he doesn’t even care. No, fuck that. He _wants_ it.

“Fuck yes, _more, more, more_. Oh god, oh fuck yes,” His mouth runs even as he gasps for air, almost drooling down his chin as he tries to see between his legs. His fingers press down, shoving his cock deep as his ass tightens, and that's it, his balls seize up and he’s coming hot and heavy into his ass. 

 _“_ _Fuuuck, yesss._ Oh! Oh, baby, fill me up, oh fuck,” Stiles lets out a high pitched whine, biting down on his lips and then gasping as his cock jerks, pulsing thickly, and he can feel it.  

“Yes, fucking come in me.”

He can feel every thick, scorching hot spurt.

“Ahhh, fucking, fill me up, _fuck_.”

Each pulse leaves a burning brand on his insides.

He’ll feel silly about it later, about running his mouth and saying ridiculous things in the heat of the moment. But not now, not with his cock steadily softening in his ass. Not with the pleasure of having his dick inside someone hot and wet and tight, and his ass so full of hard thick cock, all at once. It’s too much, too good. No one could blame him for losing his mind a little bit. No ones even around to see him, hear him, it's his little secret. Thank god.

It feels like forever, and at the same time only the briefest moment, until his balls are empty, and his orgasm is washing through him in tingling waves. He'll never be the same after this. He might never leave the house, his room, ever again. They deliver groceries now, don’t they? Do they deliver lube? Someone must….

With a groan, Stiles carefully pulls his dick from his ass and strokes it softly. “Good boy,” he huffs grinning, absolutely pleased with himself. 

“Should have set up a mirror…” He mumbles absently reaching down between his legs and fingering his rim. Outside the wind kicks up and the old oak scrapes against his windowpane. Stiles slips his fingers inside with a hiss, tender but not too sore; his head flops back as the silken warmth of his release coats his fingers.

He can’t help it, it’s almost a compulsion, without conscious thought, that he slips two fingers inside himself and shoves his spunk back into the gripping warmth of his body. Stiles curls his fingers, tugs at his rim, pulling it open just a little and pushes. The sensation of his come leaving his body makes him groan, the tip of his dick tingles and his body heats in waves.

“Next time, a mirror…” Stiles sighs, finally letting his legs flop down onto the mattress. It's a quiet moment of utter relaxation, his mind floating in that soft space between sleep and consciousness, between orgasmic haze and the real world.

“Ok, Google, take a memo,”

“Good Evening Mr. Stark. Sure, whats the memo?”

“Get a desk mirror.”

“Great, memo saved: Get a desk mirror. Anything else tonight, Mr. Stark?”

Stiles doesn’t reply, his eyes are wide, heart stammering in his chest because he swears, he fucking _swears_ that not two seconds ago a pair of bright red eyes were watching him from the window.

"Black-out curtains..."

"Excellent, I've found a number of listings for _black-out curtains..."_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and for leaving kind comments.
> 
> You can come hang out with me on [Tumblr](hartlessfiction.tumblr.com)


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